


petrified of who you are, and who you've become

by Mongo00



Series: holding on (to life) [13]
Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Anxiety, Depression, Gen, POV First Person, POV Tyler Joseph
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-19
Updated: 2018-02-19
Packaged: 2019-03-21 05:32:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13734183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mongo00/pseuds/Mongo00
Summary: I look at myself, and wonder how it got this bad.I see this person that has absolutely no confidence, hope, and motivation; I see this person who truly doesn’t want to be alive, but is for everyone else; I see this person that lives in constant fear, worry, and doubt.





	petrified of who you are, and who you've become

The person I am today isn’t the person that I wanted to be a year ago. 

I didn’t want to be this anxious, suicidal mess. I didn’t want to be this person who has to fight everyday just to stay alive. 

I wanted to enjoy life, and be happy; I wanted to be truly happy, not fake happy. 

The person I am today isn’t the person that I want to be. 

Honestly, I wish I could say that the person I am today isn’t me; I wish that this wasn’t my life, and that my reality is actually just a dream.

I wonder how much better life would be if I actually /wanted/ to live, and not die. 

I don’t know who I am anymore. 

It’s hard for me to bring myself to do anything, and even harder for me to find joy in anything that I manage to do. 

I don’t know where the ‘old me’ went. 

The person who smiled, and laughed at everything; the person that loved life, and everything about it; the person that had hope. 

The person that had hope. 

I didn’t want to harm; I didn’t want my mind to become suicidal; I didn’t want to be constantly anxious. 

I didn’t want to become a dysfunctional mess, or a suicidal headcase. 

I wanted people to look up to me; I wanted to be the person that helped others. 

I didn’t want to be an insecure person who needs constant validation. I didn’t want to be this pimple picking, leg shaking, nervous wreck. 

I look at myself, and wonder how it got this bad. 

I see this person that has absolutely no confidence, hope, and motivation; I see this person who truly doesn’t want to be alive, but is for everyone else; I see this person that lives in constant fear, worry, and doubt. 

I see the fading lines all over the arm and hip; I see the hopeless eyes that hold so much pain inside them; I see the numbness, and lifelessness that is apparently invisible to others. 

I see the pain, so much undescribable pain.

I see this person that I’m scared of, but I know that it’s me; it’s what I’ve become.

I’m petrified of who I am, and who I’ve become.


End file.
